


Supernatural Drabbles

by efioa_s



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Sam likes to tease Dean, Sick Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 17:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6666901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/efioa_s/pseuds/efioa_s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seasick : Turns out Dean Winchester gets majorly seasick. Just his luck.<br/>Only on the CW : Prophet or not, Chuck Shurley was so dead.<br/>Delirious : "Sammy, is it just me or is that pig flying?" It was very rare that Dean Winchester got sick, but when he did, he went all out.<br/>Christmas : 'Merry Christmas little brother.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supernatural Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> Finally imported from my ff.net account, though they has been revised slightly.

******Seasick:**

 

'Man, you look like your head's about to explode,' Sam chuckled, leaning forward on the railing to get a better look at his brothers swollen face.

'That's because it is!' Dean gasped, his eyes shut tight, his cheeks inflated like a chipmunks, and it was only by sheer force of will, and holding his breath for long periods of time, that kept Dean from projectile vomiting right over the rail of the boat and into the vast blue sea. The boat swayed softly and Deans face turned a horrendously unnatural shade of green, his grip on the handles tightening, skin on his knuckles pulled taut. He had lost feeling in his fingers more than an hour ago, but his brain couldn't seem to convince his digits to loosen their choke-hold on the metal bar that separated him and the gentle ocean current.

The brothers had been finishing up on a case when Sam had spotted omens surrounding the isle of Ireland. Sam had jumped at the chance, foreign cultures meant new creatures and he had always been interested in European lore. Dean had been, well, reluctant, to say the least. Sure he was looking forward to foreign food, and lots of it, but to get to the island he had to take a plane ride that was far too long for his liking. Sam had come up with a compromise. Take a boat to mainland Europe and drive from there to the north of France, from there another boat to reach the Emerald Isle. Dean agreed heartily. Anything to keep him off a plane.

He wished he hadn't. Turns out Dean Winchester gets majorly seasick. Just his luck. It didn't help at all, though, that his brother seemed to derive a sick pleasure from his misfortune. Sam had spent most of the first boat ride in silent hysterics, quietly tittering, at least having the decency to pretend to be sympathetic to his brothers plight. Once they boarded the second vessel though, he hadn't once stopped laughing. He kept teasing Dean relentlessly about the color his face had turned, a putrid shade, somewhere God awful combination of the colors red, green and purple, according to Sam. Dean supposed all the teasing was payback for all the taunting and teasing that Dean had inflicted on his brother in the past. Didn't mean he had to like it though.

'Dude, seriously, you need to breathe.' Sam gaped out between bouts of uncontrollable laughter.

Dean awkwardly stuck his tongue out at his younger sibling. This just seemed to send Sam into a further fit of hysterical fit, gasping in glee as amused tears spilled from his eyes. His brother was doubled over, clutching his sides as his gales of laughter continued. He seemed to sober up after a while, though her certainly took his time. Dean wasn't bitter, he really wasn't.

'Yeah Dean, real mature.'

It was at that moment in time that Dean finally made his decision, though it pained him to do so. If only to stop his brothers ceaseless mocking.

'We are so flying home.'

 

\---

 

**Only On The CW:**

 

'This is just too weird,' Dean said, raising an eyebrow at the sight in front of him, his face set in a form of mildly enraged surprise. Sam nodded, his expression much the same as his brothers..

'You can say that again,' he agreed wholeheartedly.

'This is jus-'

'I didn't mean it literally!'

'Sorry, grumpy...'

The brothers continued to stare in silence at the offending object facing them. They just stood there, unmoving, only speaking every once in a while, every time an exclamation of disbelief. Around them the world continued to buzz with activity, people going about their every day lives as usual, which they were oblivious to. Humans bustled past, laden down with shopping, among other things, cars roared by, but the brothers never moved. They just kept staring at the wall in front of them, unable to turn away. Soon the thrum of life died down around them as the sun started to set and the store close by closed down for the day. Soon no one passed by anymore, as the city settled down for the evening before the nightlife came out of the woodwork and came to life. As soon as the noise of the world around them died down Dean spoke up, shattering the hours of silence.

'Seriously dude,' he growled 'Is this for real, or what? Because I'm going to kill him if it is.' Sam couldn't help but nod in acknowledgment. The brothers had mixed emotions about the object on the wall. They were confused as hell, for one. Anger was closely following, and the bitter sting of something that felt a lot like betrayal, along with millions of others.

'Chuck is so dead.'

There might not have been all that many things that Dean and Sam would agree on completely but this was one of them. Even Sam, always the more humane of the two, with his gentle nature and his compassion for others, knew that he wasn't going to be the one holding Dean back, not on this one. He was just as keen as his older brother is.

'He's crossed a line,' Sam agreed, his voice deadly serious. Glancing at each other, the brothers turned in unison and made their way down the road to where they had parked the Impala. They slammed their doors shut in near perfect unison and the Chevy's engine came to life with a fierce battle cry, baying for blood. As the car pelted down the road, going way over the legal limit, the heavens opened up in a downpour, rain falling down like missiles to the ground below. The brothers raced off to find their prey. Chuck, the one who released the Supernatural books, putting their lives on public display, into the public domain, onto the internet for Christs sake, for all the world to read about. Chuck, the prophet of the Lord, protected by archangels, who would destroy all who seek to harm the man.

As they raced down the stretch of road, the offending piece of paper fluttered harmlessly to the ground. On it, Sam and Deans own petulant faces glared back under different names. In bold writing at the top of the poster read, **Supernatural** , and in smaller italics, _Thursdays at 9/8c. Only on the CW._

Prophet or not, Chuck Shurley was so dead.

 

\---

 

**Delirious:**

 

Not for the first time in his life, Dean wanted to die. His head felt like he had smashed it up against a brick wall repeatedly and then went at it with a frying pan. He ached all over and his throat felt like sandpaper and tasted of bile. He felt both frozen and aflame at the same time, sweating like it was going out of fashion, while bone shuddering chills ran through his whole body.

It was very rare that Dean Winchester got sick, but when he did, he went all out. He went the whole nine yards, because when Dean did something he did it wholeheartedly. Unfortunately for him, sickness was the same. Most of the symptoms had already showed up, now he was just waiting for the delirium to come on. That bit was always fun.

Sam was in the bathroom, soaking a hand towel in cold water for his older brother. He was worried, as usual. Deans drunken delirious stage had yet to come and he was nervous for what it would present him with, especially not, in the middle of a hunt where anything could happen. He emerged from the bathroom with dread coiling in the pit of his stomach. He placed the wet towel over Deans forehead.

"You need anything?" he asked as quietly as he could while still being able to be heard, stroking his brothers sweat soaked hair back from his flushed face.

"Water," Dean rasped. Sam nodded and rose, heading to the small kitchenette in the motel room they shared.

They had been passing through Lansing, in Leavenworth state, after receiving intel from Bobby that there was a Draugr in the area that had developed a taste for human flesh, or long pig as Dean was always gleefully calling it, ever since Travis had introduced the word to him. The hunt had been going well, for the most part. Meaning that they had been able to keep the casualties down to a minimum, but the Dragur was a slippery son of a bitch, and smarter than they had given it credit for, and had so far managed to elude them. Naturally, this was when Dean's body had decided to betray him and he had fallen prey to the illness. Unlike with other people, illness for Dean didn't come on slow. It fell on him like a tonne of bricks while he slept, and when he woke up in the morning... Well, let's just say he wished he hadn't.

Dean groaned as he shifted onto his side to turn his hazy gaze out the window. Before he could stop himself, he let out a hysterical giggle. Oh dear lord, but this was the cruelest form of torture, and it seemed never going to end. Sam would never let him live that one down, never one to let any reason to tease his brother go, even if said brother was suffering from the plague and hallucinating at the time. He focused his gaze to the window and gasped, his voice raw from misuse. Sam came back into the room with the glass of water looking troubled. He came up to Deans side and place the glass onto his bedside table.

"Dean?" he asked tentatively, nudging his brothers shoulder softly. Deans eyes were as wide as saucers and stared fixated at the closed curtains. Sam groaned quietly. Great, just peachy. Dean was hallucinating again. Slowly Dean turned his gaze to his brothers worried face.

"Sammy, is it just me or is that pig flying?"

Sam smacked his hand to his face, letting out a long suffering sight that only though who were forced to live with Dean could really understand. This was going to be a long day.

**Entry in John Winchesters Journal;**

**_Draugr-_** _An undead creature of Norse Mythology. Smells of death and decay._ _Physically described as being either 'death-black' or 'corpse-pale'._ _Guards the treasures of wealthy men after death. Rises from graves in whisps of smoke. Known to kill their prey by_ _crushing them with their enlarged forms, devouring their flesh, and drinking their blood. Animals feeding near the grave of a draugr are often driven mad by the creature's influence. Can kill it by returning it back into its grave, decapitating its body, salt and burn it, throw into sea/lake. Weapons are no good.  
_

 

_\---_

 

**Christmas:**

 

Sam Winchester woke with a start. He was alone in his room, its only other occupant already up and getting ready to face a new day. The shrill noise that had woke him up was still blaring beside him, an alarm clock, signalling it was time that he should be getting up. He batted it into silence and pulled the sheets back up until they were over his head, tucking himself into the warm darkness of his duvet. From the world outside his warm linen cocoon he heard someone laugh.

'Come on Sammy,' the voice laughed 'Rise and shine. We got work to do.' Sam groaned loudly to make his displeasure known but inside he was smiling as he threw the covers off himself to greet the person, who was leaning against the door frame, facing the bed.

Jessica Lee Moore grinned back at him before skipping back into the living room, singing for him to get up or he would have to make his own breakfast. Sam rolled his eyes but pushed himself up from his bed none the less.

He went about his daily routine before joining Jessica in the kitchen. Set on the small table in their kitchen was a plate of sausages and bacon, toast and hash-browns piled high. Sam felt his stomach rumble loudly and glanced up at his girlfriend sheepishly. Jessica laughed and leaned over to peck him on the cheek.

'Eat up!' Sam helped himself to the servings. After breakfast and coffee were finished, and Sam felt human again. the phone rang. Jessica answered.

'Hello,' There was silence as the person on the other end of the line stated their intentions. She turned to Sam and held the phone out for him. He gave her a questioning look before holding the device to his ear.

'Hi?' Sam asked.

' _Heya Sammy. How are things going?_ ' Sam felt himself grin at the comforting, familiar voice on the other end of the line.

'Hey Dean. Things are good, thanks for asking. How's the new job going for you?'

Sam heard his brother chuckle on the other end of the line. ' _I love it man. This one rich jerk brought in the most amazing vintage and left it up for sale. You should see her Sammy, she's a beauty._ '

Sam had never understood his older brothers obsession with vintage cars. When shopping for a car, Sam looked for practicality and use, for quality, while Dean looked for age, speed and beauty. Dean cared more about his cars then he did any other human being. Well, barring his family that is.

'We'll have to come and visit soon and take a look at her. What's she like?' Just because Sam looked for practicality didn't mean he didn't appreciate beauty in all its forms. 

' _It's a '67 Impala. Sleek black with a 427 engine, hydraulic breaks, skid plates. It's amazing._ ' Sam laughed and his brothers tone. Dean spoke about cars in the same way more the men Sam knew spoke about women, or men for that matter, with a longing and appreciation that bordered almost on the obscene.

'Sounds like your kind of car, man,' he could practically hear Dean grinning on the other end of the line. Suddenly he heard a loud crashing sound followed by unintelligible yelling from another person. Male, judging by the cadence of the voice.

' _Exactly. Listen I gotta go. Apparently it's distracting to be on the phone while working. You and Jess come visit really soon, you hear._ '

'I hear you man. Bye.' Sam hung up the phone with a contented smile. Jess came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, resting her chin on the crown of his head. Sam reached up and gripped her arms.

'I'm glad you two are talking again,' she said smiling serenely down at him. She pulled up slightly to kiss him softly. 'I take it we're going on a road trip.' Sam smiled back.

'You bet. Come on, let's get ready.'

\--

The trip to Dean's home in Lawrence took over one day of driving, so Sam and Jessica were tired when they finally arrived. Instead of going straight to Dean's, they called in to see mother and father Winchester.

Sam felt a strange sense relief when he saw the two of them standing in the threshold. He hugged them both closely before himself and Jess even had a chance to get in the door. After hours of sitting, talking and, most importantly, drinking, Dean graced the four with his presence.

Immediately Sam was up to hug his brother. It felt like it was just yesterday that he had seen him, even though it had been over a month ago, when Dean paid them a surprise visit. It felt good to be back with his brother again. Like them being together was right.

The afternoon was peacefully spent doing very little. Sam agreed to come visit again on Christmas Eve and to stay until after the New Year. It didn't take much persuading, Sam didn't really want to leave his family in the first place.

By the time Sam, Dean and Jessica were making their way back to Deans two bedroom apartment, it was well after three in the morning. Jess immediately separated from the two brothers to get ready for bed, but not before planting a loving kiss on her boyfriends' cheek.

Dean grinned at his brother and punched him playfully in the shoulder.

'Come on Sammy,' he laughed as he turned away to the kitchen, 'Rise and shine! We got work to do.'

Sam woke with a start. This time he was laying in a motel room, the bed sheets tangled awkwardly in his long legs. Dean sat on the bed beside him, tying his laces. Sam stared before slumping back into the bed. Dean looked over at his little brother with concern.

'Sammy? You okay?' Sam nodded slowly.

'Yeah. Just a weird dream.' Dean nodded slowly, doubting he would get much out of his brother but promising himself he would pester Sam until he told him everything. Dean got up and made his way to the bathroom.

'Oh Sam,' he stopped just before he closed the door. Sam glanced up at him and Dean pointed to the table in the motels little kitchenette. On it sat a badly wrapped present.

'Merry Christmas little brother.'

**Author's Note:**

> These were originally short individual drabbles on my ff.net account, but I felt like I should add them together to put them up here. Let me know what you think, and constructive criticism is most welcome.


End file.
